


Some Thoughts on Showing Affection

by magumarashi



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-30
Updated: 2015-04-30
Packaged: 2018-03-26 10:16:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3847165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magumarashi/pseuds/magumarashi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shepard and Garrus discuss logistics, sharing a couple moments of, ah, "cultural exchange" along the way. I'm bad at writing summaries I'm sorry</p>
            </blockquote>





	Some Thoughts on Showing Affection

**Author's Note:**

> I guess? This takes place before they “blow off steam” but after they’ve decided that’s a thing they’re interested in doing? Idk I set it right about where I am in ME2 (which at the time of writing I'm playing for the first time, go easy on me)
> 
> Yeah, I know, late to every bandwagon ever
> 
> Garrus and Shep's conversations are the kind of dialogue I want to write for the rest of my life (so if it seems heavy on the dialogue side, that's why)

Shepard couldn’t think of the last time she’d been this distracted. Rather, the last time something unrelated to work had kept her up at night or stolen every other thought. It wasn’t the usual worries, the usual uncalled-for anxiety, or even nightmarish visions of battles hard-won. Compared to those it seemed trivial, frivolous, which in turn irked her all the more.

_I want to kiss Garrus._

She regretted putting words to it, because suddenly it seemed much more ludicrous. Yet for almost a week now, she’d been unable to think about anything else.

She’d tried to talk herself out of it, to no avail. Kissing was something distinctly human; turian mouths weren’t exactly suited for snogging the way humans understood it. Shepard was sure turians had other ways of expressing affection, but she had yet to ask Garrus about them (part of her still wondered if they were just bed friends at this point, though the bed hadn’t quite come into the picture yet). They’d shared a couple of small gestures until now--a hand resting gently on a shoulder, a brush of fingers as they both reached for their guns in the weapons locker, a glance caught and held for a long time--but nothing so serious and intimate as a kiss. The thought of kissing those tough jaws seemed at once completely ridiculous and oddly enticing, and it was all she could think about.

By some miracle it wasn’t quite to the point of affecting her performance in battle, but she had the sinking feeling that it was about to be. She’d taken to leaving Garrus behind in the last couple of assignments, letting other members tag along for the extra exposure while she could clear her head with a couple hours of violence. But she knew the second she was needed for something bigger, she’d have to bring her right-hand man--and she couldn’t afford to let her feelings for him to distract her during a fight.

Shepard had to find out what it felt like--an interspecies kiss. Maybe if she got it over with, she’d be able to focus on other things.

She made her way down to the crew deck one afternoon, having made up her mind. It was a time when few people were around--and all the better; even with plenty of places to seclude themselves, she didn’t want to run the risk of anyone walking in on them. She’d decided to ask him if it would be okay for her to kiss him, for just a moment. She wasn’t sure how she’d deal with her thoughts if he declined, but she would worry about that later.

Garrus was at his usual position near the Normandy’s main armaments, bent over a control board and tapping away at holographic keys. The hum of the ship’s engines could be heard especially loudly here, but the sound of the door opening caught his attention.

“Garrus. Got a minute?” Shepard kept her voice even, trying to hide her anticipation.

The turian turned around to face her, leaving his calculations mid-line. He eyed her amicably, a sort of playfulness in his manner as he spoke.

“With you asking? Of course,” he answered, “I’ve been running a couple more targeting algorithms, but I suppose they’re not going anywhere.”

Shepard smiled inwardly--wasn’t it Garrus who, not too long ago, had prioritized his calibrations over just about everything else?

“There’s something I wanted to talk to you about,” said Shepard. She glanced at controls for the door, “You know… privately.”

Garrus’ whole demeanor changed; his brow-plates rose ever so slightly, and he tipped his head to the side a little.

“I _see_ ,” he said, “Well, in _that_ case…”

Garrus tapped a few of the controls on the hologram behind him, and the door shut with a hydraulic whine. 

“Actually, I’ve been wanting to talk to you, too,” Garrus continued, “About… you know. Blowing off steam.”

“Oh?” Shepard answered him with a quizzical look. That wasn’t entirely what she’d come to talk about, but now she was curious.

“Yeah,” said Garrus, “I wasn’t having much luck doing research myself--it turns out turian-human isn’t one of the most popular interspecies pairs in the galaxy. Who’da thunk, huh?”

“That’s funny, I would’ve thought the seething rivalry would make the sex incredible,” Shepard joked. Garrus snorted.

“Anyway, I decided to ask Mordin about it, and he hooked me up with some, ah, tips. No idea how he found ‘em, but… I hope it wasn’t too forward of me to go to him? I don’t know how you feel about people knowing…”

“It’s fine,” Shepard waved him off, “Mordin’s known about us.”

“Oh, really? You know, I kinda suspected it. He came up with those tips wayyy too fast.”

“Yeah, he’s known for a while. He actually gave me some tips, too. ‘Do not ingest,’ etc.”

“Now I wanna know how he figured it out,” Garrus’ brow-plates came together in a way analogous to furrowing, “It’s not like we’ve been obvious about it.”

“Keeping tabs on the crew’s health is one of his main priorities, so?” Shepard shrugged, “I guess sexual activity counts as a health issue.” 

“Especially when something like that could potentially kill you.”

“Hah, yeah. Yeah…”

She tried not to think about that part.

Garrus looked off to the side briefly before returning his gaze to her. She’d spent enough time around him to know that this was a gesture of nervousness or distraction; the way his weight shifted as he did it suggested nerves.

“I really hope you’re not allergic to me, Shepard…”

“Same to you,” Shepard smiled weakly, “But even so, it’s just fluids we have to worry about, right? If just our skin touches it should be fine. I think.”

“I don’t see why it wouldn’t be,” Garrus tilted his head a little, “But then again, I’m not exactly an expert.”

“We could try it out to see what happens,” Shepard blurted out.

For a moment, there was only the hum of the engines. And then, after a very pregnant pause:

“I… excuse me?”

“I mean,” She couldn’t believe she’d let herself say it, but didn’t feel particularly inclined to backpedal, either, “I’ve, uh, been thinking about things like kissing for a while…”

“Kissing…” Garrus trailed off, thinking about something, “I don’t think the translator has this right, Shepard. I’d bet you’re not referring to kissing the way turians understand it.”

“Probably not, no.” God, now she had to explain it to him? She could feel herself flushing, “I mean, humans like to, uh…” What was a good way to put this? “Touch our lips together, or…”

“Ohh, that kind of thing,” Garrus grimaced a little, “I hate to break it to you, Shepard, but I don’t really have lips.”

“It--it doesn’t have to be lips,” Shepard replied. She tried to make eye contact, but it was hard, “It’s not always--I mean… I could kiss your cheek, or your forehead, or… Ugh, nevermind.”

Shepard was two seconds away from opening the door and bolting out of sheer embarrassment. She looked up, willing Garrus to break the silence--and noticed that he was watching her with a sort of amused expression, mandibles flaring in a way she’d come to understand as a smile.

“I’ve never seen this side of you before,” he said playfully, “Tripping over words like this… It’s kinda cute.”

“Takes one to know one,” Shepard responded.

“Touché,” said Garrus, “Well, if you really wanted to try kissing, I wouldn’t be… opposed. Just not on the mouth, okay? I don’t wanna take any chances.”

“You mean it?”

“Yeah? I mean, maybe not right here, but…”

Every part of Shepard screamed in protest: _why not right here?_

“So… somewhere else?” she said, “Did you have any ideas?”

“Well, not immediately--wait, you want to do this right now!?”

“I mean, I am kinda in the mood,” Shepard rocked on her heels. She’d been in the mood for a week at least, and she was loath to wait any longer, “If you’re not up to it, though, I get it.”

“No, no, I’m up for it,” Garrus added a particular edge to his voice, “I just didn’t think you were already raring to go, so to speak.”

Shepard laughed to herself. Garrus walked closer to her, and she suddenly became aware of how much taller he was. She was fairly tall herself, and liked being able to see eye-to-eye with most of her crew, but Garrus seemed to tower over her.

“Do you need something to stand on?”

Evidently, he’d noticed too.

“I’ll make it,” Shepard stood on her toes, though it didn’t much help, “I’m going to try your cheek first.”

Garrus bent his knees a little, putting his face near to hers. She hesitated for a moment, glancing over his features; she’d never seen his face this close before. Her eyes traced the blue pattern striping across his face--clan markings, if she remembered right. The markings on his right side had been damaged by the rocket, but they were still barely visible through the scars.

Tentatively, careful to avoid hitting his visor, Shepard brushed her lips against Garrus’ cheek. His plates felt rough, almost scaly--she’d expected this much, but there was a warmth there that caught her by surprise. For some reason she’d expected his skin to feel cold and hard, like a tortoise shell.

“Are you breaking out in a rash yet?” asked Garrus, a smirk in his voice.

“I don’t think so,” Shepard responded, “Might be worth another go. Just to make sure.”

“Of course. Just one try isn’t much of a sample size.”

“Bend down a little more, I can’t reach.”

“Heh. Next you’ll be asking me to bend over.”

“Watch it, or I really might.”

Garrus leaned a little further forward, putting the plates and spikes on top of his head closer to her. Shepard laid a kiss right between his brow-plates, and another on the tip of his nose. The turian jumped a little at her touch, but didn’t seem particularly moved one way or the other.

“It’s not really doing anything for you, is it,” Shepard asked.

“Not really, no,” Garrus admitted, “It’s wet and kinda tickly.”

Shepard backed off a little, and the turian stood upright again. She wouldn’t meet his gaze, a wave of guilt rising in her chest.

“Sorry…” she said.

“Hey, it’s okay,” said Garrus, “I appreciate the thought, really. I could lick your cheek back, but I don’t think it’d be the same.”

“I dunno. Sounds like it might also be wet and tickly.”

“Oh? Well, in that case…” Garrus’ jaws parted, and something long and slick slipped out. Shepard couldn’t help but stare at it.

“Is--is that your tongue?!” 

“Huh? Yeah.” His tongue receded in the blink of an eye, “What, is it too weird for you?”

“No, it’s just--I’ve never seen a turian’s tongue before. I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t that.”

“Why, what’s yours like?”

Shepard poked her tongue out, suddenly aware of how tiny and floppy it seemed in comparison. Garrus looked at her expectantly.

“Is that it?”

“Yeth?”

“Huh. No wonder you humans prefer the lips thing.”

“I’ll have you know,” said Shepard, sucking her tongue back in, “They say the tongue is a human’s strongest muscle.”

“That little thing? That can’t be right.”

“You’d be surprised. It’s got a lot of… flexibility.”

“Shepard,” said Garrus, “If it wasn’t for the fact that it might kill us, I would absolutely challenge you on that fact right here.”

Shepard laughed quietly, suddenly wishing that making out with Garrus didn’t pose such a serious health risk. For a brief moment, she tried to imagine what his tongue would feel like against hers--and it occurred to her that this conversation had so far had the exact opposite effect of what she’d intended.

_This sure backfired spectacularly. Watch me spend the next week daydreaming about that tongue…_

“I should… probably let you work.”

“Sure, now that I’m totally not thinking about all the ways I’d snog you senseless if I didn’t have to worry about anaphylactic shock,” Garrus teased, “All this calculus will be a breeze.”

“That’s the spirit,” Shepard flashed him a thumbs up and backed up a little.

“One of these days, Shepard,” Garrus’ hand hovered over the controls to the door, “I’ll get back at you for distracting me like this.”

“Add it to the list of things we’ll blow off steam about,” Shepard responded with a smirk. 

“If we’re not careful, we’re gonna run up a hell of a tab.”

The door opened behind her, and Shepard kept her eyes on him as she left the room. They watched each other until Shepard almost tripped down the stairs at the end of the corridor; after which she hurriedly made her way to the elevator, and Garrus returned to his calculations.

In hindsight, it probably hadn’t been such a good idea to talk to him. She’d accomplished what she came there to do: she no longer wondered what it would feel like to kiss Garrus, but she was leaving with several far more distracting thoughts. And yet, she still couldn’t call it a loss. Her mind was abuzz with frustration, excitement, anticipation--she dared to think her heart felt a little lighter.

_No, I don’t think my feelings for Garrus are going to be a problem going forward. As long as I can put the frivolous ones aside for missions, I think I’ll do alright. Besides…_

Shepard trusted Garrus more than anyone else, and these new developments hadn’t changed that. Being with him made her feel like anything was possible, on or off the battlefield--and with a supposedly impossible mission ahead of them, she was going to need all the extra confidence she could get.

 


End file.
